


The act you've known

by risinggreatness



Series: Circle 'round the sun [12]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-22
Updated: 2014-09-22
Packaged: 2018-02-18 08:07:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2341184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/risinggreatness/pseuds/risinggreatness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anakin, Ahsoka, and Obi-Wan walk into a diner.  Is this the start of a joke?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The act you've known

No one would mistake the place as one of Coruscant’s finer establishments. ( _When was the last time someone washed it?_ )

Obi-Wan looks incredulous. Ahsoka is inclined to agree.

“The Senator’s Bill?”

Anakin’s tone is terse, “Yep, and we’re not changing our minds, because I’m tired of hearing you complain about how hungry you are.” Under his breath, “And everything else.”

She lets out an indignant, “Hey!” but her stomach growls impatiently. It’s been a long day: Anakin crashed ship ( _again_ ) and lots of yelling on everyone’s part. _Any_ food will cure their bad moods. Her hopes of relative peace are momentarily dashed when Obi-Wan opens his mouth to get smart.

“Well, you can make it up to us by buying dinner.”

“Not paying for yours, Kenobi,” Anakin says shortly. Nothing is said about her dinner; Ahsoka is satisfied he at least feels badly for crashing a ship she only just meticulously repaired. Now she needs to put it back together.

Inside the diner is no better than outside. The lights are bright and harsh and the booth seat sticks uncomfortably to her legs. At least Obi-Wan lets her sit near the window so she can look out at the street instead of the dismal interior. Anakin sits opposite them and immediately pulls the menu up to hide his face. She and Obi-Wan shoot each other A Look. He’ll be over it soon enough.

The number of choices on the menu overwhelms her and almost makes her forget how hungry she is. There’s probably more things to eat here than droids she took out today. At the very least she knows she wants a Trammistan chocolate milkshake: she and Master Fisto bonded over their mutual sweet tooths with them and she’s had an affinity ever since.

To no one in particular, she says, “I don’t know what to get.”

Anakin lets out a half-grunt from behind his menu, “The protato curls are good.”

However annoyed she may be with him right now, she trusts his judgment on food.

The waitress comes for their orders. “What’ll you be having tonight, sir?”

Realizing she’s referring to him as “sir,” Obi-Wan replies, “A nuna salad sandwich and a caf, please.”

Ahsoka tries to resist the urge to call Obi-Wan’s choices ‘boring,’ but what the waitress says next catches her off-guard.

“What about you, handsome?”

Anakin, surprisingly, ignores the comment, but Ahsoka and Obi-Wan do not. She lets out a strangled laugh and Obi-Wan quickly covers up a smirk.

“The Giju slider and a caf.”

Because of her outburst, the waitress is less charitable to Ahsoka. Eyebrow arched, “And you?”

“Protato curls and a Trammistan chocolate milkshake.”

After the waitress collects their menus, Anakin looks like he wants to kill them.

“Is that why you wanted to come here?” Obi-Wan asks sarcastically.

“At least I’m not some old ‘sir’ now.” Anakin may be teasing, but his expression is hard for Ahsoka to read. Obi-Wan laughs.

She watches a group of senatorial aides pouring over datapads and loudly referring to Senator Christo as a Grade-A nerfherder when her curls and milkshake are placed in front of her. The least that could be said for the place was that the food came out quickly, something Ahsoka’s stomach greatly appreciates.

Anakin isn’t wrong: the protato curls are very good.

Obi-Wan looks at Anakin over his mug. “When did you start drinking caf? It’s not like you need the energy.”

“Doesn’t it make you cranky?” Ahsoka asks.

“You know, I don’t have to pay for your food,” Anakin says dryly. The food is clearing their mood, but Ahsoka won’t take chances.

Obi-Wan flags down the waitress, “Excuse me, could you bring out some blue milk? My associate here really shouldn’t be drinking his caf straight; it stunts growth and he is a growing boy after all.”

One of Ahsoka’s protato curls flies off the platter and hits Obi-Wan’s face. Anakin’s disregard for dignity never fails.

“Now that’s a mat–”

Almost in unison, she and Anakin interrupt, “Blue milk is disgusting.” It warrants a high-five.

One of the things Ahsoka knows for certain about her master is his aversion to blue milk. ( _Obi-Wan knows too, of course._ )

“I’ve taught you well, haven’t I?” Anakin looks smug.

Obi-Wan shakes his head. Overly-solemn, “Deliberately greasing up your master, Ahsoka? Falling for it, Anakin? You used to, no; you _still_ do it all the time to your poor, _old_ , master.”

“I did not – wait. _Are_ you, Snips?”

They’ve both cornered her, but she is having a hard time keeping a straight face. “I would never dream of it, Master.”

Anakin’s eyes narrow in mock suspicion. “I’m watching you, padawan.”

The bell above the entrance rings as another person enters. Although there are not many other patrons in the diner, the new customer makes many of them tense and whispers are exchanged. The trio senses the change; it shifts their own restored off-kilter harmony. Heightened awareness and too many days fighting a war, Ahsoka puts her hand on her lightsaber hilt. She cannot see it, but she knows Anakin does the same.

Ever cautious, Obi-Wan flags down the waitress first.

“Is there something bothering everyone?”

“Oh no, Avedon Tiggs just came in! We’ve had plenty of senators in here, but no one as famous as he is! And as good-looking!” She rushes off to attend to another customer.

Ahsoka’s never heard the name before and doesn’t understand the woman’s excitement. Neither do Obi-Wan or Anakin; they look as mystified as she imagines she does. Despite the confusion, the waitress’s lack of concern puts them at ease.

“I’m sorry, but _who_?” Anakin asks the table.

Obi-Wan responds, “You picked this place; shouldn’t you know its regulars?”

“I like the food! It’s not like I come for the company! Ahsoka – you’re… young! You know this sort of thing… right?”

“I spend as much as time as you two do caring about celebrities!” she protests.

A young Pantoran goes over to the newcomer, “Excuse me, Mr. Tiggs, may I have your autograph?”

He doesn’t say anything to her, but acquiesces. Ahsoka, Obi-Wan, and Anakin all lean in, hoping to get some indication of who he is.

The girl continues in rapturous tones, “I saw your concert last month; it was just wonderful!”

Avedon Tiggs still does not seem that interested, but acknowledges her. As she scurries back to her friends, she thanks him profusely.

“…So he’s a musician?” says Anakin.

“It would appear so.” Obi-Wan replies. “Let’s stick to what we know from now on, shall we?”

“Like crashing ships,” Ahsoka offers. Independent of her own hands, a protato curl flies into her face.

Obi-Wan raises face and hands to the ( _filthy_ ) ceiling, “ _Children_. I am dealing with _children_.”

**Author's Note:**

> See author bio for discussion on this 'verse.


End file.
